Chapter 598
Shirley shot daggers at Jackson, her eyes blazing with rage. Just thinking about all the crap Lillian had been through made her wanna rip Jackson to shreds.
"Gray, let her go."
Jackson just stood there, not even flinching.
His usually calm face was all serious, and his voice had this edge to it, telling Gray to back off.
"Jackson." Gray hesitated, not sure if he should really let go.
Shirley had a temper like a firecracker and wasn't afraid to throw hands.
If she ended up hurting Jackson, even if he deserved it, the Frane family would definitely come after her.
But Jackson's stare was intense, like he could burn a hole through you.
Gray couldn't handle the pressure and let go.
Shirley's fist was clenched tight, ready to swing at Jackson's face, but she stopped just in time.
"You think getting hit will make you feel less guilty? Think Lillian will forgive you? No way! I'm not gonna hit you. I want you to live with this regret forever! What you owe Lillian, what you owe that kid, you'll never make it right."
Shirley gritted her teeth, pulled back her hand, brushed past Jackson, and stormed into the ward.
"Jackson, don't be too down. You and Lillian are still young, you'll have more kids."
Gray saw Jackson's face go pale, a look he'd never seen in almost thirty years of knowing him, and tried to comfort him.
But Jackson just heard Lillian's words echoing in his head.
She said after losing Taylor, there was no future for them, no chance at all.
His heart clenched, and his face got even worse.
"Jackson."
Gray had no clue what he said wrong to make Jackson look even more upset.
Just then, crying from the ward got louder.
Gray didn't say anything else, just stepped aside.
Listening to the crying inside, he felt really uncomfortable.
He sighed, starting to get why Jackson had been so quiet and gloomy.
Lillian's injuries were so bad, it seemed like there was no hope.
After a while, the crying stopped.
Gray turned to look at Jackson again, but he was gone.
He was shocked, how did Jackson just vanish like that?
Was Jackson about to do something crazy?
Meanwhile...
Jackson was already in the corridor downstairs, with a bunch of black-clad bodyguards trailing him.
He was walking fast, looking like he was ready to kill.
At the end of the corridor, some cops were guarding a ward door.
When the incident happened, Oberon had called the cops, and some passersby reported it too.
Bob had been rushed to this hospital and was now in police custody.
Bob was seriously injured, had surgery, and when he woke up, the cops hadn't gotten any useful info from him.
But Jackson just got word that Bob's injuries were too severe, and he might not make it.
When they reached the ward door, the cops stepped up, and the lead officer said, "Mr. Frane, the suspect is still being treated. It's against the rules for you to go in. Please don't make this hard for us."
"Move aside!"
Jackson's face was ice-cold, his gaze was deadly, and you could feel the pressure.
The bodyguards behind him stepped up, ready to throw down if needed.
The lead officer broke out in a sweat, finally gritted his teeth, and let him through.
A dying suspect, a powerful victim—picking sides wasn't hard.
He signaled his team, and they all stepped aside.
Jackson and his men walked in, and inside, doctors and nurses were still trying to save Bob.
Bob's head and face were all bandaged up, wearing a respirator, barely hanging on.
Harry and two bodyguards moved in, quietly leading the doctors and nurses out.
Jackson stepped up, ripped off the respirator, and dragged Bob off the bed.
Bob hit the ground, making weak, raspy breaths, and opened his eyes.
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